


A Taste Of Honey

by Anonymous



Category: Magnificent Century Kosem, Muhteşem Yüzyıl | Magnificent Century
Genre: Extended Scene, F/M, I am full of shame that's why it's anon, I lied, No beta cos I'm a coward, Ottoman Empire, Period-Typical Underage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, This is my first pwp btw, Witness me edit the hell out of this after posting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23923600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: ETA - Second chapter up June 10. Fic is completed! Hope you like it.I extended some scenes from Episode 5 (specifically the fade to black ones 🙈)I tagged this as period typical underage though the show is ambiguous about it juuuust in case.Anastasia didn't know when she fell in love. Or if it reallywaslove at all.Was it in the garden? His eyes reflecting the sunset, bathing him in hues of rose and gold.  The scent of honeysuckle and jasmine shimmering in the air as her lips met his; a kiss soft and slow as a drizzle of honey.
Relationships: Ahmed Sultan/Anastasia, Ahmed Sultan/Kösem Sultan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 23
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some dialogue lifted from the show (subtitles - cos I'm not Turkish nor do I speak Turkish)

If only feelings were like seasons - one doesn't need to ask if spring has arrived when the ice is thawed and the flowers in bloom. It's clear as day, no mystery, _you know._

Anastasia didn't know when she fell in love. Or if it really _was_ love at all.

Was it in the garden? His eyes reflecting the sunset, bathing him in hues of rose and gold. The scent of honeysuckle and jasmine shimmering in the air as her lips met his; a kiss soft and slow as a drizzle of honey. 

Perhaps in the hamam? 

_"Stay with me tonight," Ahmed begged._

Anastasia had declined, but she kept that treasured memory tucked into a box, playing with it over again when she had a moment to herself. 

And sometimes she liked to change the details.

What would have happened if she said yes?

She would like to kiss again and maybe, just maybe, let her reservations sink like a stone. Have her hands tangle into his hair, feel her bare body flush against his. 

Their quickening breaths would mingle in the rose scented steam as the delicious heat of his lips consumes her; flames licking her neck, shoulders, breasts. The trail of fire builds as his hands glides on her skin, teasing her desire in maddening circles until she is boiling, ecstatically hot and sweet like syrup.

Anastasia wakes up with a start, panting and soaking with want. 

How do you know you're in love?

_You dream of the one._

Her hands are shaking as she pours herself some water and gulps it down. The liquid cools her, but doesn't wash away the bitter taste in her mouth. She knows he's not alone in his bed tonight.

_"There are so many girls here and they all want you," Anastasia said._

_"What matters is who_ I _want," replied Ahmed. The_ _sun had yet to rise but there was a fire in his warm brown eyes, a steady glow burning with conviction, setting sparks_ _into her core. "I want you, Nasya._ Only you. _"_

A shiver breaks Anastasia's thoughts, and she slams the box shut with barbs and steel.

_Ahmed can sleep with whoever he pleases. I don't care._

She repeats the words over again, hoping the lie would become truth.

* * *

 _Would Ahmed like this?_ Anastasia wonders. 

She is dressed in red and gold, luscious as ripe pomegranate jewels. The scent of jasmine whispers on her skin, an invitation to come closer to breathe its sweet perfume. 

Her reflection smirks back at her, as if to answer, _Yes, of course he would._

She lies down, trying to calm the rise and fall of her chest, but her thoughts would wander to _him_ and his poetic words. 

"' _Does the heart tell man to love, or_ _is it the work of loneliness?'" he read, his fingers tracing the curved letters._ _"'_ _What is love?_ _Is it being the flame of a candle, o_ _r is it touching a flaming fire?"_

There's no calming the bird in the cage; her heart sings and beats its wings, urging Anastasia to get on her feet to find him.

The secret garden is bursting with blooms. Ahmed sits at a work bench, his clever hands busy bringing life to drift wood. He drops it all for her as she approaches and rises to greet her. "Nasya," he says her name and butterflies flutter in her walls. "Did something happen?"

What could she say?

"I see you in my dreams," she murmurs, before claiming his lips, pouring a thousand fevered dreams into a kiss. There's nothing soft and slow in this moment, she greedily devours it; biting and sucking every honeyed taste and as his hands grip hard onto her hips to pull her closer, the hunger simply grows until she's aching with need.

He reluctantly pulls away from her, with a little groan that strangely thrills her. His voice is hoarse, he's breathing hard against her and she can feel his heart is pounding as her hand slides to his chest. "Nasya," Oh, she loves it when he says her name. "We should stop, otherwise I can't-"

"I want to be with you tonight." 

What is love and is this love? She doesn't want to think, she's tired of it. Tonight is about desire, and her surrender to it.

Before she leaves him to escape from this wretched palace. 


	2. A Taste Of Spice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just full blown smut. I have to change my tags.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some dialogue lifted from the show (though I might have reworded the terrible translation)

It was the strangest walk down the Golden Road for Sultan Ahmed. A struggle to maintaining a dignified air and not make a mad dash to his private chambers. 

Or worse, have Anastasia there and then in the garden. It was tempting, but no, not today, not their first time. It must be perfect, because that's what she deserves. 

Finally, the doors opened and closed and it was only them; just a boy and a girl, Ahmed and Anastasia, hearts beating loudly in the silence, facing each other.

Or rather he was facing her while she was still firmly looking down at the floor. Had she changed her mind? Did she still hate him for keeping her here? 

"Don't worry," his voice level as he swallows his disappointment. Gently, he cups her jaw and tilts her chin up. "If this is not your will..." 

_I will wait until you're ready, for as long as it takes._

She bites his finger.

Ahmed yelps—more from shock than pain (for it was a light nip), and then his breath catches, transfixed, as Anastasia sucks his finger. He withdraws slowly and then shakes his head to clear it. "Almost bit it off," he chuckles. "For a moment I thought—" 

"Come closer." She crooks a finger with a challenging glint in in her eye and for a moment he wonders if this is some fever dream. 

Ahmed steps to her, resting his forehead on hers, a hand reaching for her waist, while another twines into her locks. He breathes in her scent; jasmines and honeyed amber and sunshine —a secret garden— and his head spins. "And what is your next command?" he murmurs, deliberately brushing his lips against her earlobe to make her shiver. 

"Kiss me," Anastasia whispers and her dutiful subject happily submits. Their previous kisses were always sweet, chaste touches but now—

Her lips part, inviting him in. Her tongue is velvet against his, her kiss now spiced with a hunger. 

She could devour his heart and he'd thank her for it.

He bites her bottom lip, sucking it before he gently tugs her hair and her neck arches back with a delightful gasp. Her breath quickens as his mouth trails down the curves of her lips, throat, and chest. 

She pushes her frame into his, fumbling with the buttons of his kaftan. "Off." 

"As you wish." 

Once, Anastasia would have averted her gaze from his nude form, flustered, but now she watches. He sheds his layers, piece by piece until all is piled on the floor.

Her fingers graze his chest tentatively, as though his bare skin burned her. 

"Does this please you?" Ahmed asks aloud, but inside — _Do I please you?_

"Yes." She kisses his collarbone, her mouth sears through his flesh. "Undress me."

"Turn around." She does so, and Ahmed groans as he sets to his tasks. "So many buttons." 

Anastasia giggles, "Would you like me too call for someone else to undress me?"

"Or you could keep the pretty dress on and let me lift up your skirt," Ahmed jests and then kisses the nape of her neck, adding a little teeth, and her knees buckle slightly. He grabs her waist to steady her. 

"Or I could just walk out the door and leave you wanting," she teases back. 

His hands run up on her sides, finger tips tracing circles around the curve of her breasts, and then daringly slips down her decolletage into the dress ever so slightly. She lets out a sharp gasp and before he can move away, she covers her hands on his. Her heart beats wildly, like his, against the palm of his hand.

"Undress me _now_ ," she says, her voice thick with need.

Ahmed unwraps her, pausing only to kiss her bare skin with each layer removed, enjoying her happy but impatient sighs. The last piece finally comes off, his eyes and hands sweeps her form, grazing every curve with soft feather-light touches that hardens them both. 

"Beautiful," he sighs against her skin, pink flushed and vibrating with want. Her eyes flutter as his touch gets rougher, fingers pinching and rolling the peak of her breast as she sweetly gasps for more against his mouth. 

Chest to chest, leg to leg, they tumble into bed, their heat pressing against each other. 

"I want all of you, Ahmed." 

It's so tempting he aches but...no. He's waited too long to rush. 

Ahmed's lips explore her skin, crisscrossing on her oases and dunes. He flicks his tongue at her tips before taking her into his mouth, savoring her delicious moans as he nibbles her.

His mouth trails lower, leaving no inch untouched and her legs part for him. Her sex beckons, the delicate petals blooming at his touch. 

Her breath quickens. "That feels..." Her nether lips, now a deeper shade of rose, glistens as his fingers dip in and out.

"You said you see me in your dreams." He swirls his thumb around her sensitive bud and she moans at the sensation.

"Yes."

He kisses her fiercely and grips her hips, pinning her down. "Did you dream of this?"

"What do you mean- ah!"

He traces her lower lips with his tongue, tasting her arousal. His tongue lashes at her and she cries, begging for more. Her fingers grip onto his shoulders as she writhes, dancing like a flame on a candle. 

_If she is fire, let me burn._

He feasts — lapping, biting, sucking — on her desire, until she roars his name with one last shudder. Anastasia pulls him up, eyes glassy, skin glowing as she gasps for air. 

"Ahmed." She takes him by the hand and he grunts in surprise. She strokes him against herself, and he almost goes mad. "Make love to me."

Love, his heart sighs, please mean it. He's laid with others but it was never love, never sweet. 

He can deny himself no longer. He slides in — god, she feels good — slowly, restraining himself from going too deep too soon. A sound escapes her lips.

"Are you alright?"

"Don't stop," she commands.

He moves carefully, his rhythm slow and gentle, shallow dips to whet her appetite.

"More, please. Please—" she pants, "I want you."

He plunges into her tight embrace; she is silk and nectar, so lush he almost careens over the edge. They rock against each other, still achingly slow, building up the pace and the pleasure.

Ahmed Ahmed Ahmed. She murmurs his name like a prayer and, he realises, Nasya is the only one to say his _name_ , not his title, in this bed and his control unravels.

They are a warzone; tooth and nail biting into skin, pin pricks of pain and pleasure. Thrusting and tugging, blood boiling in lust together.

They are paradise; tender kisses, honeyed moans and cries, until the stars burst inside her eyes and he dies in her arms so sweetly. 

He kisses the crook of her neck, feeling her heartbeat on his lips and sighs into her skin.

"I love you, Nasya." 

She stiffens and he curses himself for ruining the moment. "You don't have to say it back," he adds.

And she doesn't. 

Instead she smiles and kisses him goodnight. She places her head on his chest and sings a lullaby, something in her mother tongue, and the moment feels—

He holds her tighter. 

_Make love to me._

Anastasia must love him, she _must_. She wasn't like the others. This wasn't like all the other nights. 

_I slept with one eye open, an ear listening, my hand holding the knife under my pillow... Until you._

Ahmed's eyes grow heavier. Tonight, as she lays in his arms, he's not afraid to sleep.

"I'm sighing, you can't hear me, my pearl," she sings. "I cry and you don't feel sorry for me, I cry and you don't feel sorry for me." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from Nanourisma, translated.
> 
> Thanks for the kudos guys! I really appreciate it while practicing smut XD

**Author's Note:**

> This might be part 1 of 2 if I can get over my embarrassment to finish expanding the part where they actually bang.
> 
> Edited June 10 - done!


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